I Won't Dance
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day 1279a. This is what happened when Mike Chang woke up in this new world, a world where he lost so much more than part of his leg. - Berry-St series


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 60th cycle. Now cycle 61!_

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**"I Won't Dance"  
Gen1!Mike, Quinn, Gen2!Mrs. Chang (in gen2!world)  
Berry-St series  
_(all series now listed under the communities tab in my profile)_**

**_A/N: Okay so I didn't plan this quite right, technically this story and the next to be posted  
take place in their respective worlds before the one I posted in the previous cycle  
(you won't be lost, I just felt it should be mentioned ;))_**

He still remembered the moment he had felt it. He was still waking up, and his head had already felt so light, maybe he would only turn over and go back to sleep. Only his legs had brushed together, and something wasn't right. He couldn't go back to sleep until he knew, so he had grudgingly tossed the covers aside.

The moment the air had touched him, he knew something was wrong. And when he looked down, he saw why… Half his right leg was missing.

He bolted up in his bed, completely awake now. But all he had to run away on was one leg, while the stump followed him, and he stumbled back down… and screamed.

He didn't remember much of what had happened next. His mother had come, he did remember her being there, trying to calm him down, but his mind was too traumatized, and he kept on screaming, as though it would only be a nightmare.

And then Quinn was there. She was trying to talk to him, and at first her words couldn't get to him, but then they would echo in his head. He wasn't crazy, wasn't dreaming, he was meant to have two legs. The fog in his head was clearing, though he still felt like there were needles pricking him over every inch of his skin.

Then Quinn had told him. If he hadn't just woken up without half his leg, he might not have believed it, but it was hard to argue against that sight… and the fact he was starting to remember being at school a few moments ago, not in bed, although he would have wanted to be, with how tired he'd been all of a sudden. She had said they were thrown into an alternate world, where their lives were different. They still knew who they were meant to be, but no one else did. She also told him there was a way home, that they would find it, but it could take a long time, weeks, months.

He wouldn't be going to school, not on that day. He wasn't even sure he could walk or stand. He just kept staring at where his leg should have been. His mother sat with him, looking like she could cry as she took his hand.

"I still can't wrap my mind around this…" she shook her head. "You're my son, only you're not… my Michael."

"Mom, what happened?" he slowly asked. He had to know. She hesitated. "Please?"

"You… were in an accident, you, Noah, and… and Matt, last October. Your leg was crushed, and they had to amputate," she looked as though she was reliving the memory as she told him about it.

"What about them, were they okay?" he quickly asked, and the way his mother's face plummeted, he felt his heart sink along. "Mom?"

"Noah was fine, it wasn't his fault," she shook her head before giving his hand a squeeze. "Matt died, honey," she told him, and his hand went to his eyes, feeling them burning with tears. This was a nightmare, this was hell, it couldn't be… "I'm sorry, Michael, I'm so sorry…" she hugged him, and he held tight.

He had asked her for a moment to himself, to absorb… everything. If what Quinn had said was true, then this was going to be his life for who knew how long. He wanted to be able to handle it, not to be pitied or treated like he couldn't take care of himself.

His hand hovered over the end of his leg, trembling. He had to do it, had to deal with the fact that this was what it was. He steeled himself, took a deep breath, and he laid his hand down over the stump. A sob escaped him and he let go, curling his hands away. This was his leg, this was it… The real one, the real Mike who'd lost his leg, he'd had to go through this, to adjust. He would, too. He had to.

Get up, he would tell himself.

It took him an hour of sitting there, until his stomach begged for food, before he came around to try standing. He could see the prosthetic, sitting nearby, all of it… He couldn't do that yet, not when it was already taking him everything not to start crying again.

There were crutches also. He could get a handle of those. He sat up, turned himself to rest his feet… his foot on the ground. He shut his eyes, ground the palms of his hands into them. He swore he could feel it there, his leg, even though he knew it was gone.

Another deep breath, and he reached for the crutches. They were well within his reach, which made sense. Now he had to get up. He could already tell his balance would be shot. He didn't want to fall.

Somehow he had made his way to the door, then the stairs. He looked down, which was probably a mistake, but he didn't fall. Instead he climbed down, slowly. His mother had heard him, but when she came to help he insisted on doing it alone. She still stood nearby. He didn't say anything, but truth be told he was happy to have her there. He felt safer.

When he sat in the kitchen, she served him breakfast, which he ate hungrily. Once his plate was empty, he looked at her. She still worried so much.

"We can't tell Dad. He'll think I'm crazy."

"Michael…"

"Mom, please," he begged, and finally she nodded.

"Alright, I won't say."

While he had risen from his bed earlier, it had started to dawn on him… This life here, without his leg, it meant no more dancing. He had lost football as well, but he would recover faster on that one.

What if Quinn couldn't get him home? What if he was stuck here forever, the way he was now? He knew that this real Mike would have already lost that part of his life, never to get it back, but… he couldn't help being a little selfish in wanting back what he had lost.

"Mom?" he asked, and she looked up. "Am I… Am I still in Glee Club?"

"Glee Club?" she frowned, lost.

"Yeah, am I still…" He couldn't really sing, so dancing was his one real contribution, but maybe…

"Honey, you were never in Glee Club. Besides, that never took off the ground. They shut it down almost as soon as they launched it, last September."

"No, but I was… I am in Glee Club, with Puck, and Matt, and all the others, and I dance, and…" he let out a breath.

"I'm sure you would have been great," she promised. He had something else on his mind.

"Mom, when was it? The accident. What was the date?"

"October 24th," she stated; she would never forget.

And neither would he. That night, in his… reality, whatever it was called, he had been with the Glee Club, doing some late, Jesse-mandated practice, they all had.

If they had all been there, in Glee Club, none of this would have happened. He would still have his leg, and Matt Rutherford would be alive.

He was going to help Quinn and the others. They had to find a way to fix… something. He would go back to where he belonged. When he did, he would leave this messed up world better than he had found it.

"Mom, can you show me the prosthetic?"

THE END

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******A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
****In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
************always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!**


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